


I'm not in love (it's just a silly phase I'm going through)

by dannyikigay



Series: after hours [2]
Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Choking, Depression, Drug Addiction, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Make-up, Oral Sex, Recreational Drug Use, Tenderness, denial of feelings but falling just the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:23:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29735223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dannyikigay/pseuds/dannyikigay
Summary: “I don’t want a definition,” Allen responded, taking a brush to press the edge to the eyeshadow. “I don’t want labels. I’ve always felt different. Now close your eyes,” he slowly applied the colour on Tyki’s eyelid. “I am a man, I think. I like to wear any type of clothes. Yes, I do stuff that isn’t inherently masculine,” he splayed glimmering gold across Tyki’s skin, luscious and perfect, “but it doesn’t matter to me.”“Why should it matter?” Tyki smiled, opening one eye. “Conformity is boring.”“For people like us, maybe,” Allen explained, tapping Tyki’s brow so the man would close the other eye again, therefore allow him to smooth the brush across the lid and paint it in gold. “We scare the world,” he scoffed, because it had never felt so true to his own ears. But it was, and it was because Allen did coke and destroyed his perspective of an healthy, ordinary life.Tyki smoothed his hands across Allen’s sides, feeling him up with his long fingers. “But you are so pretty,” Tyki whispered hot and low and sensual, smiling, “the world should adore you, boy.”(Where Tyki comes over and Allen puts make-up on him).
Relationships: Tyki Mikk/Allen Walker
Series: after hours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185413
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	I'm not in love (it's just a silly phase I'm going through)

**Author's Note:**

> this belongs to my after hours longfic...it was supposed to be chapter 4 but i thought to myself: why not post this as a standalone fic? anyways, in this story tyki and allen have addiction issues...and angst ensues, but it's also sweet and tender. i hope you'll enjoy <3

[Allen](https://youtu.be/Vr7ALyWAG0Q) was _fine._ Relatively calm, his thoughts fluttered in a vacuous dimension. Nonsensical wonders, and most of the time he forced himself not to think at all. But his mind wouldn’t keep quiet, and he had to _think_ about something to give any sort of significance to his day. So he thought about food and his friends and how he’d like to feel healthy and safe and young. He hadn’t thought about killing himself. He’d endured his abstinence. No coke (and truthfully, it was because he couldn’t afford buying another gram after he’d ran out of the previous amount. But still, it was an effort. He hadn’t relied on his sultry charme to obtain it). He’d taken his pills and it was good, it was absolutely, obviously normal.  
  
He was _normal._ _  
_ _  
_ The written test he’d done that morning was extremely easy. It was about digging out his old knowledges. Things he knew but was too lazy to apply or too tired to elaborate. It was his own effort. Lavi was almost displeased, throwing answers his way when the teacher wasn’t looking, as Allen so plainly ignored him and massaged his temples to solve the quiz in the most efficient way.  
  
He was doing well and Lavi said it was because of his newfound love but _no!_ No, it wasn’t because of Tyki, _really_ , because Allen’s only wish was to prove his worth to himself and himself only, and it surely, surely wasn’t because someone else made him _work_ .  
  
But Tyki was persistent and knew how to talk to him and how to laugh and sent him a million texts, all days since that night at the festival. _How have you been tell me about your day are you happy are you angry you want to tell me about the weirdest dream you have ever had?_  
  
He made it hard for Allen not to notice him. But he made it particularly hard for Allen to answer back. How was he supposed to reply? That he was getting gradually better? He was fully certain that in that case the world would have turned his back on him out of nasty spite. Should he have told Tyki that he wanted to meet him again, that the hours he spent with him were so stimulating, unfolding new discoveries, contrasting point of views? That his presence enriched him, that he had thought about his kisses on his neck for hours, for days? That he wanted to sleep next to him, softly, talking until dawn dropped its curtains and Allen’s eyelids were heavy and his heart fraught with adoration?  
  
His life wasted away by a shallow pride and a skittish bashfulness, it hurt him physically, the mere thought of moving his fingers to type a text and send it to Tyki, something as simple and as innocent as _wanna hang out?_ because why would he? Why would Tyki _want_ to see him? When he was a rich man, so invested in his family business and so _erotic_ in the countless, dark shades of his personality?  
  
He was despicable and absurd and cynical and Allen detested him for all the things he made him imagine. Of how he’d slip into his bed and touch him, laugh with him and talk to him about the most casual things. Of how he’d make love to Allen, telling him all the things he adored about him, giving him a sign of unrepentant, unflinching reverence? Allen dreamed about it. About them. Of the tears he’d shed if Tyki were to fall for him upon the thread of their connected souls. If he’d feel _it_ as vivid, as lancinating as Allen did.  
  
Maybe it was all in his head.  
  
Allen didn’t want to be in love.  
  
He was at home on a Saturday evening and he was a complete mess, untidy hair gliding out his loose bun to brush across his cheekbones. Loose, yellow long-sleeved shirt tucked into a pair of washed-out jeans, feet covered by the layer of his purple, woolen socks.  
  
He was in an utter state of relaxation.  
  
_Until_ Tyki informed him that he’d finished his shift at his office and that he was nearby, asked if he could come over for a little while and Allen was torn between _screaming_ and wordlessly panicking. He was smiling like an idiot and fixing his hair, huffing and sighing and eventually deciding, “fuck it,” as he looked at himself in the mirror and realised that it was so, _so_ impolite from Tyki’s part to invite himself to someone’s house.  
  
What was unforgivable was that Allen’s room was a total confusion: piles of books on the desk, crumpled bed sheets, a pair of trousers hanging from the edge of the chair. And Tyki hadn’t warned him beforehand. Not properly, allowing Allen to clean up the mess and arrange the place into something similar to common decency.  
  
In the end, Allen stated that it wasn’t too bad. Tyki wasn’t an honorary guest. Allen was a mess every day of his life and it was only legitimate that his room reflected his continuous state of mind. That was the excuse.  
  
A concealed, tiny part of him was merely lazy. The most part was relentless stubbornness. It wasn’t like he wanted Tyki to think that he tidied the house and himself for the occasion. It was out of question. Tyki was another kind of mess, but a mess altogether.  
  
But did it really fucking matter, anyway?  
  
Tyki must have really been some minutes away from him, because in a few moments he was knocking at Allen’s door and the boy couldn’t _move,_ specifically due to his embarrassment. His snark wasn’t easily defeated and he could shut a man up with his clever, quick tongue, _but_ his stomach was tied into knots and a distinct excitement was seething in him at the perspective of spending his evening with someone. Deep, secluded in a corner of his soul, he knew what he expected from it and loved to fantasise about all the ways it could go whether they turned into reality or stayed covered into his consciousness.  
  
His paced steps hitting the floor, smothered by the soft wool, Allen made for the door and, delicate fingers on the handle, pulled it open to see Tyki stand outside with hands into his pockets and those dishevelled, wild curls of his brushing his forehead. Smile curling on his lips progressively as soon as Allen found him, his eyes establishing a secret connection with the man’s pervasive stare. Silence between them, as if both spellbound, communicating reciprocatively through a mute, universal understanding.  
  
It was so pure and so spontaneous, so _expressive_ that felt like nothing Allen had ever felt before. It felt like having known Tyki for a long time, in another world and in another body. It gave him an estraniating mirage of eternity, as if wholly, thoroughly contemplated. Understood. _Lived_ through with a single stare, once and forever.  
  
Allen was bound to break the spell Tyki had casted on him before it would hurt him, deeply and irremediably. “Come in,” he sighed, letting Tyki walk past him so that he could close the door behind himself. “You should have told me earlier that you were coming over, you know. Not that I care, but, you know,” Allen hesitated, playing it incontrovertibly cool as he led Tyki inside, “at least my room wouldn’t give you the impression of me being a sluggard.”  
  
Chuckling the way Tyki usually did, carefree and honest, Allen was a bit relieved. “I don’t mind. I don’t judge,” he said calmly. “I _shouldn’t_ judge. I throw my clothes everywhere, and my floor’s dusty.”  
  
“Terrible,” Allen commented, walking into his bedroom. Sitting down, he put his hands on the mattress by his sides, definitely tense. “It’s not easy to be lazy.”  
  
“You don’t seem too lazy, boy,” Tyki retorted, sitting next to him. His hand was an inch away from Allen’s, fingers touching his ever so softly, ever so slightly.  
  
“Sometimes. Sometimes I really am,” Allen exclaimed, looking down at his feet and realising just then that he was just wearing socks and that it was...somewhat embarrassing. “It’s because I wasn’t expecting a guest this time.”  
  
“Would you have tidied up if you knew earlier that I was coming?” Tyki questioned, visibly intrigued, and his smug smirk grew wide and tangible, always directed at Allen with the sole purpose of driving him crazy.  
  
Tilting his head to look at him, Allen’s eyelashes fluttered until only a sliver of his silver eyes was visible, then muttered dryly, “ _no._ Shut up. You’re messier than me.” Giving him a softer look, Allen chuckled ironically. “That makes us even. I don’t feel judged.”  
“Good, that’s what matters,” Tyki said softly, forefinger insistently reaching out to caress the boy’s thumb. “Just thought I’d see you, you know, talk about stuff,” he explained so casually, relaxation in his features. “I want to know about your day, boy. How are you?”  
  
It made Allen’s heart flutter because it was so _genuine,_ and he didn’t know what to say except, “actually? Good today,” and it came as a surprise to him, because he’d been feeling so bad his whole life. Hopeless. His voice was a whispery taunt, “are you going to make it worse?”  
  
“Wrong assumption,” Tyki replied quickly, finally placing his hand atop Allen’s, cupping it into his own, safe and warm. “Maybe I’m going to make it better. I think I made you laugh quite a few times, boy.”  
  
“Maaaaybe you did,” Allen mocked, cheek sore with the weight of his endless smile. It brought him against himself: he was smiling so much with him. It made him feel so intolerably good that he was immensely flustered.  
  
“I definitely did,” Tyki remarked proudly.  
  
“Alright,” Allen rolled his eyes, letting his hand slip out Tyki’s grasp. “So did you work? Weren’t you, like,” reminiscing, the boy tapped his chin, then said mischievously, “the pickpocket that steals stuff from the store?”  
  
“Not all the time,” Tyki countered, giggling contentedly. “I work for the family business. Great stuff. Boring as fuck.”  
  
“So you’re wealthy and you steal,” Allen insisted, giving him a lopsided look for the sake of provoking him, of trapping him back with the same sarcasm. “A walking contradiction.”  
  
“I wasn’t rich from the start,” Tyki pointed out with a smile. “Had to begin somewhere. Live in the streets, you don’t lose some of your old habits.”  
  
“You’re going to get caught at some point,” Allen said, very surely.  
  
“And I will find a way out of the possible trouble,” Tyki claimed smugly, his hand still remotely close to where it could touch Allen. The boy regretted to have retracted his hand when Tyki was holding it. “You gotta know all the tricks, boy.”  
  
Tyki’s speech came without inflections, proceeded smoothly and concealed dangerous thrills behind the gold velvet of his smile. Chewing on his lip, Allen eyed him inquiringly, then replied with the same cheekiness, a tender invitation, a lighthearted thing. “Next time you visit make you sure you steal my favourite cookies from the store first.”  
  
“Oh, I’ll keep that in mind,” Tyki chuckled cockily, eyes soft and gentle and voice low, reaching him like a caress. They were so close and Tyki was smiling and Allen was smiling too, and maybe he was stupid. It was so right and so natural and Allen felt bad for enjoying it, that nuance of delight, of amusement. “Chips. Donuts, too.”  
  
“Exactly,” Allen nodded very severely. “The first thing to know about me is that you can’t satiate me with a single box of cookies.”  
  
“Two boxes?” Tyki asked, raising a dark brow in adorable curiosity.  
  
“Noooo,” Allen whined jokingly, as if that was so fucking important and the only relevant thing to remember. He was smirking contentedly as Tyki looked slightly terrified when he said, “more than five. At least,” as he held back his laugh and added, sweet like sugar cane, “and no. I’m not joking.”  
  
“Okay, okay. In that case I’ll need more bags. Can’t make off with five boxes of cookies without anyone noticing,” Tyki said, thoroughly enthralled by their stupid conversation and their stupid smile and their stupid laughter as his eyes showed, intense and deep and dark, all the attention Allen had always unconsciously wished to receive upon himself.

Tyki’s attention was erotic. Calculated, gallant, soft.

Allen let out a breathy chuckle, gaze shyly pointed down on the floor beneath his socks. His cheek was tense with the strain of his facial muscles, pale skin painted in a strange heat displayed into a tender blush. He looked at Tyki because he couldn’t stand the idea of being far from him, even if the man’s hand was touching his and he could feel his laugh ghost across his ear every time he leaned over. He looked at him because it put him at ease but it still tormented him with multiple doubts. 

One of the reasons why he was looking at him was astonishingly simple. Trivial, almost, giving lightness to his heavy mind.

Tyki’s dark-caramel skin was smooth and bright and his eyes were scattered in the all the shades of sunlight and brown and liquid gold. Hypnotic. 

A sudden idea popped up into Allen’s head. “Your face,” he muttered cryptically, eyeing Tyki like a ruthless inquisitor. 

“My face?” Tyki said confusedly, mouth open in an adorably clueless expression.

“Do you mind if I, huh,” Allen smiled softly after having carefully stared at him, “try some make-up on you?” 

Slightly taken aback, Tyki frowned briefly. But he was immediately relaxed as he rolled his eyes, laughed and said, “oh god, not this again. My niece does this all the time,” which was a confession and Allen laughed hard at that, because _god._ That man could be adorable. “Wants to dress me up like a doll.”

“It doesn’t sound too bad,” Allen commented, getting up to pick up the vanity from his desk, stuffed with all types of brushes and his favourite palette of glitter-eyeshadows. He rifled into the case to find the highlighter. “Maybe she’s an aspiring fashionista.” 

“Or she just wants to make fun of me,” Tyki countered, sighing theatrically, even though Allen could sense distinctly the amusement that tinged his tone.

“I’ll make you look so good,” Allen promised excitedly, placing the vanity onto the bed by Tyki’s side. He stood in front of the man, smiling, and innerly melted at the realisation that Tyki was still so tall even if he was sitting. “No room for heteronormativity in here.”

Tyki agreed, grinning. “Absolutely not. Do the fuck you want whenever you want, right?” 

“Exactly,” Allen said, opening the silver palette. There were ten eyeshadows to choose from. Sparkly and colourful. “A masculine man like you is still masculine even if I put lipstick on him,” he went on, looking at all the different colours. 

“What about you, boy?” Tyki questioned softly, resting his hands on the boy’s hips. “How would you define yourself?”

Allen looked for a contrast. Gold was the colour that brought life to his beautiful skin. 

“I don’t want a definition,” Allen responded, taking a brush to press the edge to the eyeshadow. “I don’t want labels. I’ve always felt different. Now close your eyes,” he slowly applied the colour on Tyki’s eyelid. “I am a man, I think. I like to wear any type of clothes. Yes, I do stuff that isn’t inherently masculine,” he splayed glimmering gold across Tyki’s skin, luscious and perfect, “but it doesn’t matter to me.”

“Why should it matter?” Tyki smiled, opening one eye. “Conformity is boring.”

“For people like us, maybe,” Allen explained, tapping Tyki’s brow so the man would close the other eye again, therefore allow him to smooth the brush across the lid and paint it in gold. “We scare the world,” he scoffed, because it had never felt so true to his own ears. But it was, and it was because Allen did coke and destroyed his perspective of an healthy, ordinary life. 

Tyki smoothed his hands across Allen’s sides, feeling him up with his long fingers. “But you are _so_ pretty,” Tyki whispered hot and low and sensual, smiling, “the world should _adore_ you, boy.”

“Because you say I’m pretty?” Allen asked silently, tracing the brush along the line of Tyki’s lid. “That’s not enough to deserve adoration.”

“To me, it is,” Tyki murmured like a secret, laying on his back. Allen straddled his lap. “Along with all the things you can’t appreciate about yourself,” the man said with a sensual smile, and Allen was glad the man had kept his eyes closed because he couldn’t have tolerated to be seen when Tyki said all those pretty things. 

Tyki wanted to adore him.

Allen was frightened.

As he leaned down to let his brush wander on Tyki’s eyelid, his long, white hair tickled the man’s face. Backside pressed on Tyki’s crotch, Allen was vaguely excited as he reached out for the highlighter, choosing another clean brush to draw across Tyki’s cheek. Applied the highlighter to the tip of his nose, contouring and exalting his harsh lines. At last Tyki opened his eyes, looking up at him with a fond smile. Allen’s hair was on his face. Tyki’s hands on his hips, again, holding him. 

“You are quiet when you’re flustered,” Tyki grinned, his face bright and smooth, his eyes gold. 

Furrowing his brows, Allen felt the urge to look away and search into the vanity for the tiny bottle of glitter. “I’m focused. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I don’t want you to say something you don’t really mean,” Tyki explained, thumb digging into the dip of Allen’s hip. “It’s okay if you keep quiet. I don’t mind silence. I’m looking at you.”

A feverish desire permeated him and it made him conscious of the position he was in. On Tyki’s crotch, so close, so that the man could easily pull his hair and push him down for a hot kiss. 

Having to do something with his hands (when he wanted to put them on Tyki’s body, touch his dick, put it into his pink mouth, make him _moan_ ), Allen popped the bottle open and shoved his fingertip inside, catching tiny stars of glitter. He glued them to Tyki’s cheekbone, trailing his finger across his face in a line of sparkles. 

Allen cupped his face into both hands. “Gold makes your eyes shine,” his voice was a pained whisper as he leaned down to press a kiss to Tyki’s lips, stroking the man’s cheeks with his thumbs.

Wrapping his arms around the boy’s waist, Tyki kissed him deeply and tenderly. Loving strokes of his tongue on Allen’s lip, body gently shifting to press it close to his. Looking at him through half-lidded eyes, Allen saw the gold on his skin and the stars on his face. Tyki peered at him, smiling into the kiss as he slid one hand up Allen’s spine to caress his scalp. Fingers gentle and indulgent, hand big and large enough to cup the back of Allen’s head perfectly.

“Mh,” Allen moaned into the kiss as Tyki sucked the tip of his tongue, the other hand at the small of the boy’s back to press him against the cage of his body. 

Allen let Tyki lead him under himself, flipping their positions. Tyki went on kissing him, hand by the side of the boy’s head, the other crawling up Allen’s arm until he laced their fingers together, pressed the boy’s hand to the pillow.

He was dominant. He was _strong_ , pinning Allen to the mattress and kissing him fervently, audaciously.

When they parted his lips were slick. Tyki’s eyes were hazy, his curls loose and tight and thick and Allen buried his unoccupied hand into those so that he could pull them and pull Tyki down for another kiss. 

Allen had never been kissed like that. There was a certain urgency to Tyki’s lips, but he was taking care of him so patiently, taking his time to explore Allen’s soft, pliant mouth. Tyki was treating him _right_. Overcoming him with his strength, his weight, his larger, broader, stronger body. But he was asking for his consent, was kissing and touching him with the same careful guard of a nocturnal predator.

They were playing.

Allen was in denial.

(He was _not_ in love, really, really, really).

Tyki tore his heart apart when he pulled away from his lips, making Allen ache for another intimate touch. But the man printed a kiss to his forehead in a fatherly reassurance, held his hand and was with him without the need to leave him.

“Do you trust me?” Tyki spoke quietly, loosening the embrace of their hands to caress the boy’s heated cheek. 

Tyki annihilated his defences. Allen couldn’t voice a proper response. Nodding slowly, his heart was throbbing with anticipation.

“Good baby,” Tyki, his thighs by each side of the boy’s hip, smoothed his hands across Allen’s chest and down his thin torso. Smiling softly, he pulled his yellow shirt up his belly and off his head, baring new inches of skin. 

Intoxicated by Tyki’s heady perfume, Allen let him do anything he wanted. But then he realised that Tyki could see his chest. And his chest carried the imprint of self-inflicted cigarette burns. His left wrist was marked with the faint trace of long, thin cuts. 

He was _ashamed._

He didn’t want to cry, didn’t want to look weak. He held back with all his strength as Tyki eyed him precisely, as a pained frown appeared on his face, gaze on the horrible cigarette burn, bitterness twisting his beautifully bronze features. 

But Tyki didn’t ask.

Instead, he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Allen’s collarbone and caressed the wounded spot with his thumb, rolling it slowly. “Pretty,” he whispered without a smile. Because he wasn’t _playing_. He accepted him and his flawed body. He didn’t dare ask. 

Tyki came from the same broken place.

Furiously _infatuated_ , Allen unbuttoned Tyki’s shirt and slid it off his shoulders, letting it drop somewhere on the floor. Smoothing his hands across his muscles, Allen looked into his eyes and was intimated by his perfection. Everything about him was harmonious and made him hyper-aware of his thinness. 

But it didn’t matter so much, because Tyki was different from all the other guys Allen had slept with. Tyki wasn’t entirely different from the person Allen was. 

“Wait,” Tyki said firmly. Allen rested his own hands on his chest, a bit abashedly. Tyki, golden colour on his eyelids and glitter on his cheeks, fumbled into the pocket of his black trousers. His fingers held a tiny plastic box. White powder, copious and _alluring_ and familiar.

Allen should have felt guilty. It was a good excuse to snort it. He’d have someone to blame. Something to justify. 

“One last blow, what do you think?” Tyki tempted him, smiling like it would do him no harm. “Let’s get high together for the last time. Gonna have to consume this.”

Allen chuckled quietly. “Come on. Snort it off my chest.” He was suddenly enthusiastic, taking upon the excuse of having coke because something made him do it. But it was his decision only. He was euphoric.

Tyki fetched a rolled up bill from his pocket and Allen was kind of amused to see that it was already prepared. The man smeared the coke on Allen’s chest, set it into seemingly regular lines. He was so hot when he looked into Allen’s eyes, licking his lips as he took the bill between his fingers and inhaled the coke through the paper. 

Bothered that the expensive drug could go to waste, he trailed the tip of his tongue across Allen’s chest, catching the tiny powder he hadn’t managed to snort in one take.

Everything about him was so erotic that Allen felt a thrill of desire settle on his low abdomen. “My turn,” he purred, pushing a hand on Tyki’s chest to make him lay on his back. Grinning, he followed the same procedure with practiced eagerness. Surprising Tyki, he poured the powder on his belly, snorting it off with the same bill and giving him the impression of being on his way to suck his dick. 

Allen rubbed his nose with the back of his hand, eyes up, and gave a breathy laugh as he felt it instantly kick in. The good sensation; being secure, confident, capable. 

“Heh,” Allen’s eyelashes fluttered sensually as he licked a wet stripe across Tyki’s belly, curling his tongue for him to _fantasise._ “You like what you see, _daddy_?” he mocked him, chewing on his lips when a grin spread at the corners of Tyki’s lips.

The man gave a pained groan, “you can’t imagine how much,” his voice the lowest breath he could muster, filled with lust and heat. “Where does it come from? Calling me daddy.”

“You look like the type who enjoys it,” Allen answered smugly, crawling over Tyki’s body to bring his face close to him, taunting him with all his sweet words, “thought I’d have fun teasing you just a bit.” 

Tyki caught the boy’s chin between his fingers, pressing a wet kiss to his provocative lips. “Tempt me and you earn yourself a good spanking,” Tyki hissed onto his mouth, grabbing Allen’s face into his hand, squishing it as though he were a doll to toss around. His grip was violent and Allen could feel it through his nerves, could feel the man’s gaze, the rhythm of his heart beat, the cadence of his breath, _everything._

And _god_ . Being grabbed like that by Tyki, barely able to move his mouth as the man held his cheeks. “You’ll spank me because I called you _daddy_? You have no self-control, Tyki,” Allen purred, smoothing himself against Tyki’s body, naked chest flush against the man’s, pale milk to dark chocolate.

“Oh no, boy. I’m simply warning you,” Tyki chuckled, loosening his bruising grip around Allen’s face to brush white locks behind one delicate ear. Allen’s cheekbones felt sore with Tyki’s bruises. “Say you understand, come on. Show me you’re a good baby,” the man tapped his chin, ran his thumb across Allen’s lower lip and grinned like a fox, so _demanding_.

Because Allen was playing the same game, and it was turning him on, he whispered, “I understand, daddy,” then breathed out a laugh, clear like the surface of a diamond, “is that what you want me to say?”

Tyki scoffed. “That’s good,” he said. He moved the boy’s body away from his own, and Allen naturally lay on his back, eyeing him curiously. Tyki reached for the vanity Allen had abandoned on the corner of the bed. Grinning satisfied, the man took Allen’s favourite red lipstick into his fingers.

“What do you want to do with that?” Allen giggled, following Tyki’s sinuous movements with his eyes. Tyki had his muscular thighs by the boy’s sides, hovering above him with the strong cage of his body. 

He was mesmerising. 

“Shhh,” Tyki said. He pressed the lipstick on Allen’s upper lip, painting it red. Allen sensed his inexperience in the way he moved it across his lips, evidently struggling to follow the frame of his mouth. 

As a teasing smile twisted Tyki’s lips, Allen felt the need to lock his arms around his neck, gaze heated and enamoured and fixated on nothing else but him. Tyki put the lipstick aside, kissed him, slid his tongue into Allen’s mouth, held Allen’s jaw into his harsh grip.

“I wanted to see you like this,” Tyki whispered low, resting his forehead against Allen’s. “Smeared lipstick. Caged into my arms,” he went on with his explicit sensuality, stretching out his tongue to lick across Allen’s lip. Some of the lipstick stuck to Tyki’s chin and cheek, smeared into stray spots by Allen’s filthy kisses.

Allen opened his mouth for Tyki to fuck it with his tongue, teeth grazing across his lower lip in a sharp bite. Dragging his blunt nails across Tyki’s forearms, Allen was a wanton mess. Died to touch him, have him naked and manly and perfect. Craved contact, physicality, violence. Wanted to feel him when his mind was high and his perception was intensified, when he could feel Tyki with every fiber of his being. 

Tyki shoved his trousers off his legs, played with the waistband of his boxers and let Allen’s pink dick bounce free. Mouth against his, Allen moaned into the kiss as he unzipped Tyki’s trousers as well, exposing his large cock to feel it brush against his in the most pleasant friction.

Allen momentarily pulled away from the kiss to look at his gorgeous cock, long and big and wet. Took it into his hand, massaged it, rolled his thumb on the slit and kissed Tyki, swirled his tongue across his and gasped, _gasped_ because the man was warm and throbbing into his hand and poisoned him with enticing sexuality. 

“Do you want it in your pretty little mouth, boy?” Tyki said softly, voice husky and deep with desire. God, _god_. Golden eyeshadow on his eyes, smeared lipstick, glitter on his cheeks. Allen was dying.

Allen was _dying_. He couldn’t resist _him_.

“I want to lick it,” Allen purred hot and sexy against his lips, pumping him into his hand, mouth open for another wet kiss. “Want to suck it, feel it in my throat,” he worded shamelessly, mind lost in his state of euphoria and coke and fatal attraction. Tyki’s eyes shone and his smile was feral and Allen was _dying_ for him to kill him with his erotic brutality.

“And I want to suck yours so bad, baby,” Tyki muttered, breath heavy as his lips clashed against Allen’s one more time, invading his mouth with the addictive taste of his nicotine. Allen couldn’t stop kissing him, mouth and chin wet with their joined spit, fingers vehemently stroking Tyki’s dick. 

“But I want to face you while we do it,” he continued, reaching between Allen’s thighs to brush his heated dick with his thumb, “you are so beautiful,” smiling so hotly, kissing Allen again, looking at him, “want to fuck your mouth while I taste you, boy.”

Tyki lay on his side, cheek on the pillow. Gestured for Allen to do the same with a snap of his fingers, but with his face in front of Tyki’s dick and Allen’s dick in front of Tyki’s face. “Like this?” the boy asked, wrapping his arm around Tyki’s waist as he pressed his face against his cock, licking a wet strip from root to base with hot, irrefrenable want.

Nodding, Tyki groped Allen’s ass cheek, parting his lips to engulf the tip of his pink length into his mouth. Started to bob his head slowly as Allen flicked his pink tongue on his dripping tip, massaging it into his hand. Melted in the scent of Tyki’s intimacy, the musk of the coarse dark curls at his base. Got high on Tyki’s taste, thick and salty and delicious, lips pulled around the shape of his dark tip.

The man gave his ass a little slap as he took him into his throat, trailing his tongue across his sensitive flesh. Allen pressed dirty kisses to Tyki’s erection, the slick, erotic noise of sex stuffing the room. Moaned like a slut as he sucked Tyki’s dick into his mouth, hips bucking erratically to thrust into the man’s silky warmth.

All he thought of was Tyki and how good it felt to suck him off, drinking up his juices. It was a sexual way to forget his transgression, to give coke a good reason to haunt his mind. Tyki awakened a raw sensuality in him. Allen had always felt sexless, unworthy of being ravished, of being desired. Yet Tyki sucked him so lovingly, as though his mouth had no other purpose than to fill itself with Allen’s intimacy. 

And all that stupid glitter, and all that stupid gold. Something about that was magical. Make-up on his beautiful face as he swallowed Allen’s dick, letting it disappear completely into his unstoppable mouth. Allen caressed Tyki’s thigh, taking him in to the root until his nose was buried through the man’s pubic hairs.

Sliding a finger between Allen’s cheeks, Tyki massaged his pink hole. Moved his mouth from Allen’s dick to his ass, flattening his mouth across his tight entrance, _violating_ him.

Allen would spread his legs for him, would give him anything he asked. Maybe Tyki deserved it, for how generous and entertaining he was. Maybe Tyki would make love to his body and abandon him when he’d start being bored. Maybe Tyki would break his heart and make Allen ache for something more. Allen didn’t know. Didn’t know if Tyki’s charisma was enough to let him into his life. But Tyki surprised him continuously, kept him on his toes. Texted him, kissed him, made him laugh.

The fear of growing too attached was consuming him. Theirs was just a game. 

Just a game.

But was it really? When Tyki ate him out so passionately and penetrated him with his forefinger? When he tried to hold back his low groans as Allen made love to his cock, stimulating every inch? Was it mere carnality?

Allen writhed on the bed, rolled his hips in waves and made pretty little noises with his lips stretched around Tyki’s cock. The man pushed his finger inside, curled it slowly, started to thrust while he pressed kisses to his slick dick. 

They worked together, connected through their mouths in a chain of pleasure. They wanted each other to feel _good_ , satiating their hunger with each other’s taste as if they had found the thing they needed in order to feel complete. Sucked each other’s dick as if they couldn’t bear to let go, given how Tyki fucked his ass with one finger and squeezed his cheek with the other hand, how Allen worked his mouth faster and deeper and forgot to breathe just to cherish his thick erection.

Relaxation and fervency fused into a single sensation, Allen closed his eyes and focused on the shape of Tyki’s dick into his mouth, pictured it, beautiful and large, abusing his sore throat. 

Their passion evoked a sentiment within him, something he firmly believed he had lost. Basking in another person’s warmth, wrapping himself into his intimate, particular smell. Sharing a universal fervour, they rejoiced through each other’s mouth, beautifully, wholly, eternally united. 

Why was casualty giving such a beautiful man to him, if it had to last?

Tyki, Tyki, who shoved his finger inside him as deep as possible, who left heated kisses on his twitching dick and groaned as he went, hungry, relentless, unchaste.

And Allen’s lips around his tip, and his fingers tracing across his stiff flesh, and his eyes closed to fill himself of nothing else but the other person in a wordless devotion. Pleasuring him so flawlessly, a familiar heat pooled into his abdomen, down, down, down. But Allen didn’t want to come so soon, didn’t want to break the spell they were creating. 

Tyki’s hips were faltering, thrusting with the sensual fluidity of his waist, fucking into him even more irregularly. They didn’t need to say a word; _Allen_ didn’t need to word out his desire. Tyki understood.

Tyki let his lips slide off from Allen’s dick, pulled his finger out his ass and propped up on his elbow, inviting Allen. “I want you on top of me,” voice husky, breathless, burnt with the fire of his passion. Dishevelled, loose curls sticking to his sweaty forehead. Skin slick and smooth and glimmering, molten gold on his penetrant eyes. 

Without question, blindly guided to him, Allen crawled on top of his sturdy body and assaulted his beautiful mouth, tasting himself on the tip of his tongue. Tyki grabbed his ass cheeks, kneaded them apart into his hands, pushed him closer so that their dicks rubbed together. 

Allen’s hair, unkempt and loose, his hands on Tyki’s face and his tongue into Tyki’s mouth, his hips moving with his, his smaller frame squished insistently against Tyki’s larger body. His moans falling past his lips, melting into Tyki’s low groans, both emitting lustful noises into each other’s mouth as they kissed in a wild frenzy, all the lipstick completely smudged in stray spots all over their faces.

 _I want you I want you I want you,_ getting drunk on the taste of each other’s lips, addicted to the touch of their hands and how _alive_ they made each other feel without saying anything. 

And the hours fleed by with Tyki, and the time trickled away without the possibility to grasp it. Million emotions pervading Allen to his private core, one obsession torturing him: Tyki would go away. So Allen’s kisses were sharp and fiery and painful, his gasps hot and heavy on Tyki’s lips, his eyes wet with the tenderness of his emotions. Nerves alight, mind high, Tyki groping his ass cheeks through his fingers, slapping them softly in the mockery of their game.

" _Tyki_ ," he moaned desperately, rutting hectically against Tyki’s hips, toes curling and dick dripping, “Tyki, _god_ ,” kissing him, rubbing his chest against his, nipples hard. “I’m there, I’m close.”

“Me too,” Tyki whispered with a strained smirk, striking Allen’s ass with his full hand as to incite him, “baby,” and _god,_ the way he said it made Allen’s heart race crazedly, race into his chest. He wanted to be his baby, wanted to be his, wanted to listen to that voice again and again and again, hot like a summer breeze, smooth like expensive velvet.

Tyki’s hand wandered up his spine, caressing him softly. Then, moving Allen’s hair over one shoulder the way only Tyki could, he wrapped his fingers around the boy’s throat, looking into his eyes as he silenced his voice. Hand, big enough to grab Allen’s neck completely, gaze unforgiving and _invincible,_ as if he could decide to end Allen’s life at any moment.

And no one, _no one_ had ever choked him like Tyki was doing. 

That was the thrill he needed to come with Tyki, finally; the man’s fingers were tense and tight as his dick leaked thick, pearly seed, staining his and Allen’s abdomen. Allen’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, head empty with the blank sensation.

Only after that, Tyki allowed Allen to breathe. Head thrown back in the pillows, the man squeezed his eyes shut for a second, lips parted to gasp. Allen rested his cheek on Tyki’s chest, where his heart was beating arrhythmic. 

They embraced each other. The cold brushed Allen’s damp skin. He relaxed into the man’s arms, regaining the normal rhythm of his breath. They were holding each other so spontaneously. 

For an initial moment, it felt wonderful. Then the sensation became weird. Not because he didn’t want to hug Tyki. But the ecstatic state had passed and the drugs, which weren’t out his system, had instilled a depressive feeling. 

Why was he spending so much time with Tyki? Why were they hugging as if there was a future ahead of them? Why had he accepted to snort coke with him when they were both attending the meetings at that sleazy narcotic-anonymous centre?

Perhaps Tyki wasn’t a good influence. Allen should have stayed away from him, no matter his gentle words and empathetic talk.

So he slid out of Tyki’s embrace, lay on his side with his shoulders facing him. Tyki didn’t ask. Allen didn’t want to look at his expression, whether it was unconvinced or disappointed or completely indifferent. 

Didn’t want to feel himself fall for Tyki like an idiot.

Behind him, Allen heard him shift on the bed, reach out for something. A clicking noise. The smell of smoke. Tyki had lit himself a cigarette. Red Marlboro. That was his brand, Allen could tell that much from the poignant stench. Tyki’s fingerprints burned on Allen’s neck. It made him feel _so_ strangely emotional. 

Having Tyki’s smoke stick to his clothes when he’d wear them the next day. His bruises on his neck, so pleasantly painful. 

“Are you tired?” Tyki asked quietly. Then, because he wanted Allen to know he _cared,_ because he wanted to get to his heart any way he could, asking things nobody had ever bothered to ask him, “did you feel good?” 

“Mh-mh,” Allen said, resting the back of his hand on the pillow. He wasn’t particularly loquacious after an orgasm. Only the after sex made him conscious of his nakedness. He was dirty, tired, conflicted and couldn’t bear to see Tyki go.

Tyki draped his arm around his waist, his chest flush against Allen’s back. The cigarette was still between his fingers. Allen took his hand, brought it to his lips and stole a drag from his Marlboro. Tyki’s fingers brushed his mouth during the mute exchange. 

Tilting his head, Allen casted a longing stare in his direction. Glanced at him over his shoulder, eyelashes ever so slightly tickling his own naked skin. Tyki leaned forwards to press an adoring kiss to the corner of his mouth. Worshipful lips on his porcelain skin, Allen looked at him intently with his silver eyes. 

“I want us both to get clean, Tyki,” he murmured, thin and broken. Frown worrying at his brows, he talked to Tyki with all the pain in his heart. 

Tyki nodded slowly. Brought the cigarette to his mouth and took another drag, then threw it on the ashtray by the bedside table. Slung his arms around Allen, nose at his nape, through his thin, smooth hair. “We’ll never take drugs again. This was the last time. Promise me, boy.” 

The lump in his throat grew like a venomous plant. Allen tried to swallow around it, conscience undecided. “I promise,” he cupped Tyki’s hands with his own, trailed his fingers across his knuckles in gentle, erratic caresses.

“‘Cause I found you,” Tyki said, hurt, and Allen could feel his desperation as he rested his face at the back of his pale neck, eyelashes caressing him in disarming tenderness. “I don’t want to lose you. I want you in my life.” 

Had he been less emotionally frustrated, Allen would have cried. He didn’t think he deserved the right to express the emotion he felt when Tyki said those things. He didn’t want them to be true but he didn’t want Tyki to lie.

“Do you want us to become each other’s drug?” Allen said eventually, very suavely. Smiling because it was a provocation, containing the fear of something absolutely true. 

“If it works,” Tyki said, and his hands were tense on Allen’s belly, his voice a low murmur into his ear, “why don’t we give it a try?” 

Allen knew he was right. But he also knew that there was no salvation for people like them. No redemption. They weren’t sane.

So he endured the ache of his heart and tried to breathe around his raging anxiety.


End file.
